The terror of the unexplored seized him. There was no protocol for this. The investigator's persona would remain trapped inside a foreign place for weeks, and due to the time shift, breaking the link could introduce potentially fatal noise into the user's consciousness - even more so in the case of the roar being active. Dying human minds were the most noisy.

He felt the blackness around him take form and studied his surroundings. Even now, he stood in a cave, limited before walls. There was the calm he was used to - a small world created by the mind, his favorite source of new information. Humans were interesting in that regard. Some would even create scenery that they had never would have seen even in art before. Where did this scenery come from? The enigma's gears turned, sternly protecting the magic of its existence. He noticed the girl standing a few steps away from the waterfall by the cave opening, her back facing him. A door was visible on the right, a rusted iron plate hiding a passage that had been carved into the rock.

"What was that before..." he asked her in confusion. Could this projection also speak his language?

"Tainted feet aren't welcome in a temple", she spoke without turning.

"These tainted feet mark themselves here to seek answers. Are you Shirley's subconscious?"

"Yes. What kind of answers do you desire?"

"We wish to learn about the core of the human mind. Our only goal is to gain more knowledge! We can save your body if you cooperate."

He felt the throbbing in his chest. The persona assigned to him by the dying human mind was the most detailed he had ever experienced. Forbidden texts floated through his awareness, texts that would invite a purge if anyone in their realm tried to access them.

The human mind can imagine life itself

"Then enter" she spoke plainly. "The door is right in front of you"

He felt a massive grip on his shoulders, enough to paralyse his projection. In an abrupt sweep, the dream-world came to an end.

The collective unconscious screamed in agony from stagnation. He was a mote against the heavy wind, uncertain and powerless. As the truth revealed itself to him, his final moments arrived in a violent stroke of lightning. The sand became the sea and the air fell down as rain. The mountains became ice caps and melted into the aura of the innocent village boy, who had now become the Sun.

"Do you realise it now?" he heard the plain voice again. "We are the same type of beings. The thirteen thousand years that will pass under your presence on this world is nothing but a pre-determined merger. Individuals bend against the will of the collective organism. We shall consume you."

"And God declared: 'This is my mercy upon you, meaningless beings! You shall receive the essence of 'me', and bring forth the moment where you become demiurge to this Universe."

Shirley sat on the soft grass of the royal garden, reading a book in her favorite spot. It was a beautiful day with predictions of rain later in the evening. She saw her little brother in the distance - a silouhette of the future king. From the circle of trees around the garden emerged beautiful songs.

She smiled as she saw bullets pierce through her brother's gentle body. The air itself had been weaponized into a tool of assassination. She smiled at her own helplessness, at the absurd songs of nature, and at the black dots in the distance that tore through the sound barrier enough times to send ripples into her bones. Finally, she smiled at the bright light of destruction.

As the dust settled, under the rubble, she smiled at her own unwillingness to die. In an involuntary movement, her fingers crushed a small insect as the mechanical tentacles caught hold of her.